“That was ... unexpected,” Peter said. He glanced at Amelia, and they shared some private thought. Amelia’s lips twitched, and a breath later they were both laughing, holding on to each other for support. “His grandmother’sring?”
“The one time you go out gambling. You had no idea.No ideawhat you’d come home with.” Amelia laughed. “That poor man. He wassweatingwith worry you’d not give it back.”
Peter’s grin split his face. “Little did he know, had I not gifted it to Georgiana, I would have given it back without a second thought.” He shook his head. “There must be some sentimental value to it. Perhaps he’s promised it to someone, or his mother is in a fit.”
“Is his grandmother still alive? Perhapssheis the one in a fit. Poor man.” Amelia laughed again. “Regardless, that was quick thinking, Georgiana. Turning that awful duke on his head like that. I think this might just solve everything.”
“I think so too.” Peter’s grin softened. He took Amelia’s hands in his and winced. “I suppose I must return to London.”
“Of course.” Amelia threaded an arm around his back, and he held her side. “Though you’ll forgive me for being the tiniest bit cross since you only just returned.” He’d had business in Town but hadn’t stayed because of the little bean growing inside Amelia. She was due in three months’ time. Another reason I could use friends to visit. To escape to.
“Thank you, but no, Peter,” I cut in. “I will go alone.”
Peter’s forehead creased, and he smiled only halfway. “Alone? Where will you stay?”
I shrugged absently. We hadn’t spoken of my mother since I’d asked if he wanted to invite her to his wedding. He’d turned a shade of red and almost spat the word: No. But he had to see how my staying with Mama simply made more sense.
“I had the idea ... perhaps I could call upon Mama. She is only in France. I am sure, if I told her about the duke, she would come back.”
Peter recoiled like he’d been slapped across the face, his eyes utterly betrayed, and I instantly regretted the words. If I could have stuffed them back inside, buried them deep, I would have.
“Your mother,” was all Amelia said, nodding once and looking to Peter. She had an annoying habit of buffering any uncomfortable situation. “That isoneidea. But there is also the apartment in Mayfair, and you and Peter would only be gone a few weeks.”
Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other,his cheeks coloring again. “You do not want me to come, Georgie?”
“Of course, I do,” I said with earnestness. “But would you not love, for once, to have the house to yourselves? Especially before the baby comes. You—” I swallowed hard, glancing at my sister-in-law. “YouandAmelia both deserve to walk freely in your own home without wondering if I am around the corner. And do not say you aren’t careful to watch for me. I know you are.”
“You have never been a burden to us,” Amelia said, shaking her head. But she’d say anything for Peter.
“This house is big enough for us all,” Peter said. “But if you are uncomfortable, I can certainly situate you in the dower house with a servant or two. I did not know you wanted that freedom.”
“I don’t,” I hurried to say, lest he think I was unhappy by his hands. “I simply want ...”Someone. Anyone.“I could just as well stay with Mama.”
Peter sighed, his shoulders sinking. “She is not capable of the mothering you seek, Georgiana.”
“Peter,” Amelia whispered, grasping his arm. I was glad my brother had someone to support him, but sometimes it was painful to watch. I ought to have that too. A parent, at least. With Father gone, for better or worse, all I had was Mama.
“Like it or not, sheismy mother,” I said softly.
But he continued, “Then where has she been?”
He was trying to make a point. Trying to say shechoseto stay away from us, despite what had happened between them. “You will not let her come.”
“And has she invited you, ever, to stay with her in France?” He looked pained, as though the very question made him ill.
The familiar aching resurfaced, as acutely as ever. “No.”
He nodded once, as though that settled it.
Did it? Mama had never been truly happy, never truly attentive or loving to any of us. But Papa had told us stories of London—how she was the life in every room, how she’d light up and laugh and dance with any and everyone—and it had always been hard to imagine.
“But perhaps she feels unwanted too. Perhaps she needs only the opportunity. To be needed,” I said.
“With the duke at your side, I am certain she would come. But not because she cares.” Peter drew in a long breath. “I will come to London with you.”
“You won’t even let me write—?”
“I need you to trust me. I need you to be onmy sideon this matter. I would do anything for you. Please—let me keep you safe from this.” He sighed again, and Amelia wrapped her arms around him.
